


Ectoplasm

by baeberiibungh



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Entities, M/M, Mediums, Parapsychology, Psychic, Spirit Guide, seances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 17:02:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5593999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeberiibungh/pseuds/baeberiibungh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Do not play with the dead, or else the dead will play with you</em>
</p><p>Will Graham is a serious medium who will tell you everything for a price and has a spirit guide called Hannibal...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ectoplasm

Will Graham lived in a grey house, that looked very depressed from outside, with drooping ornaments on the windows and half shuttered windows and plants that never managed to grow anything but would live on as straggly plants that looked too brown and bore no fruit or flower. The small children were afraid to go near the house and superstitious people crossed the road when they saw him. In his own circles, Graham was equally disdained, for trying to take a scientific approach to what he did, writing about possible energy transference at the time of death that could be measured and detailed.

He also talked about distorted sound waves being able to bring into view the otherworldly denizens and that science would do good to concentrate on where a human goes after death. He was celebrated among the Baltimore rich because he could be so accurate in his predictions, not to mention that he was not a very social man who would go around blabbering away secrets. In fact he had a name for never divulging another’s fortune, no matter how much money or favours were offered to him. He, in spite of his handsome looks, never went around trying to stock up ladies. 

So young women with veils drawn down on their faces would hastily go to him to consult about a possible rival, men in search of a job would go to him to look for advice as to what they best do next, mothers who lost their children would come looking for them from Will. Will never turned anyone away, even when it would have been prudent to not to, and while he had a huge fee, sometimes, as if as per someone’s instruction, he would waive the fee and do his service for free. There was no difference between what he provided to those who paid and those who didn’t and no one could understand it.

Thus, straddling the boat of both science and myth, Will’s days were passed with reviewing the mystic world, looking into other’s futures, bad and good and locking them away from his memory so that he may not harm them even by mistake, and living a life that seems attractive from far, if the number of girls trying to flirt with him is any indication and possibly sinister to some, for the matter he discoursed on was basically labelling him a heretic if not worse. For company, he had seven cats, each blacker than the other, that roamed the house with abandon. Some called them his familiar, but he merely loved cats and their whiskery kisses.

When night came to his house, Will would lock up all of his doors and windows safely and blow every light away in the house. The cats were herded into the dining room to bed under the dining table for Will had made them a bed out of old rags that they seemed to especially like. He would take his solitary meal, left there by his maid, an old crone of a woman who Will refused to read the future for and who incidentally made the most delicious scones ever, and disrobe completely before sliding into his bed. He would turn on to his back, splay his legs and put his hands on his chest and wait.

The first sign that shows that something is not right is the cold that suddenly permeates the room. It starts to feel like the darkness surrounding his laid body has grown pointy fingers and are touching him with nimble touches. Soon, loud and harsh breaths will fill up the empty space around him and the bed will dip on one side. It is at this point that Will will take his hands off his chest and throw them up near his head. Next he will feel a heavy weight, not as heavy as a grown human, but definitely bigger than his cat and settle over him, with liquid limbs that feel human but the texture wrong. 

A long tongue will force itself into Will’s half open mouth and sweep along his teeth, as if checking to see all of them are there. Will will slowly start to bring his hands down making no sudden movements and finally put his hand on the thing that is lying on him. His hands usually fall on the shoulder, the shoulder blades like soft bone, too hard a touch bending them under a too thin skin, with the flesh underneath it always seeming to be in movement or too many hearts beating together at the same time just under the skin. Will will run his hand down and the body will go indistinct.

It was as if the entity, whatever it was, had problem manifesting more than its head and torso, its legs wisps of cloud that tapered off like a mermen perhaps. Weirdly enough, as cold the room would get, the body lying on him, for Will had no doubt that it was a body, a human body and a mimicry of one at that, would be always hotter than his body temperature. The invading tongue would pull out and Will would feel sharp nips along his lips and jaw, sometimes a mouth sucking at his skin. The teeth were very sharp and numerous and spaced very near each other unlike a human.

It is at this part that Will would find his eyes open to the darkness and be able to only look at a deeper darkness over him. It is only after Will had opened his eyes that the thing would start making love to Will. Its hands, sometimes horrifically disjointed and usually having at least seven finger in each hand would start roaming over his body phasing through the bed under him so that he would feel the touch under him too, ghosting along his spine and the base of his skull. Its mouth full of teeth will lave at Will’s weak points till he is gasping out and crying out in pleasure.

The shadows will weave around him, in him and make Will see stars, his voice loud and fucked out in the room, while he attempts to hold onto something. It had once said that its name was Hannibal and that is what Will calls him, both in his séances and in his bed, while he is ravished till he is spent onto the bed sheet. Hannibal would hum happily at Will then, its mission accomplished and then disintegrate into shadows after Will got his heart rate under control. The next morning Will will get up, rested and feeling fine and get on with his day, the memory of Hannibal and the want for Hannibal still fresh in his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok Ok so i kind of ended up writing one more, so this is officially my last fic for the year 2015. Coincidentally, it is also my 100th fic in AO3. Thank you everyone for the many kudos and comments you have given over the year to make the writing worthwhile. I would not have been able to do it without the encouragement i found in the fandoms and among the readers, not to mention the fanfic writers who inspired me to take up writing fanfics in the first place. So, Thank you all, you are awesome people.
> 
> This one is unbeated and of course thank you for reading! Comments and kudos please?


End file.
